Reflections
by sonicironiclaura
Summary: The Doctor attempts to reflect parts of his life with his companions. Something The Doctor tends to run away from. I suppose this may contain spoilers in a subtle way...sort of yes i have just watched rose!


Reflections: Donna

Alone again. Maybe that was the way life for The Doctor was supposed to be. Or maybe these infrequent terms of travelling alone in the TARDIS existed to remind The Doctor of his own life. To make him realise that alone he was still a Timelord. Still the last of the Timelords, but not the great man so many people make him out to be.

Who was he without his companions?

The Doctor wandered around the TARDIS control room. Occasionally, casually, tapping the vortex manipulator switch with his right thumb and singing a tune that he had heard before, but not sure where, in his head.

"_Well I've roamed about this earth with just a suitcase in my hand..."_

The song seemed to appeal to The Doctor personally which was spooky, but it made him thing.

What If, just for once, instead of running at the first thougt of sadness or loneliness, maybe he should try and be alone and reflect?

The one thing that always set The Doctor apart from his beloved human friends was his inability to reflect. Maybe, just this once, as he was alone and timeless, he should give it a try.

He stroked the tall, beautiful crystal cylinder of the TARDIS console that began to pur and relax; making the soothing sound of The Universe invade the room and comfort The Doctor. He smiled gently, turned around and stumbled into an area of the TARDIS in which at times like these he was usually more than happy to stay away from.

Ahead of him lay an endless corridor of closed doors.

Behind every single one of of these doors lay different rooms; some bigger than others, some empty, some bare but had been once lived in. Others full to the brim of human clothes and belongings and a few, just a few, locked with a key that sat in the depths of his suit pocket.

The Doctor wasn't nessecarily a religious or supersticious Timelord. But he certainly had memories that haunted him and often felt the ghost of his and others pasts.

Firstly he looked to his left; the room most recently and frequently used: Donna Noble's room. He looked at the plain, locked wooden door with remorse, sadness, remembrance and happiness in his eyes.

He turned round and saw himself struggling, heaving two suitcases and hatbox. His statement quiff and pinstripe trousers with converse the only features of himself he could make out.

Donna Noble followed behind. Empty handed.

"Doctor, where are we going?" She asked, peering over her hatbox.

"I'm taking you to your room!" he replied calmly and patiently even though he could see slight frustration in his brow...or maybe it was glee...he must look in the mirror more often...actually, maybe not...

Donna snapped. "What did I say about mating?"

The Doctor seemed to ignore her comment. "Don't worry, I'll let you pick!"  
"What!"  
"Your room, I'll let you pick your room!"

The Doctor and Donna were becoming were becoming closer to the present Doctor. He remained still and simply allowed his visions to walk straight through him and continue to the door that he was previously looking at.

His eyes were now fixated on the door at which Donna was now still carrying...nothing and standing waiting for the almost crippled Doctor to reach her chosen door.

"I'll take this one." She declared, opening the door but not stepping in.

"Hmm..." agreed The Doctor. "This is an average sized one." He glanced at the many suitcases he was carrying. "With...a very excessive wardrobe space..."

"Brilliant!" She smiled.

The Doctor gestured for Donna to go in and follwed, just before teh door slammed in his face.  
"Blimey!" shouted and echo sounding Donna from inside her newly aquired room.

"What?" asked the hatbox carrying Doctor, with concern turning on the light.

"It's bigger on the inside!"

The Doctor in which the Doctor appeared to be visualising turned to face the present timeless Doctor and smiled warmly and memorably which reflected onto himself as he and the bright light of the room faded away with the red fire of hair in front of him flickering out. Sending the pale, bare door slamming, locking shut.


End file.
